


we shout in our heads (are you still in there?)

by puppethandsyndrome



Series: dsmp drabbles n such [6]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Character Death, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:01:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29950359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppethandsyndrome/pseuds/puppethandsyndrome
Summary: “What is a ghost? A tragedy condemned to repeat itself time and time again? An instant of pain perhaps. Something dead which still seems to be alive. An emotion suspended in time like a blurred photograph, like an insect trapped in amber.” -Guillermo del Toroaka, ghostbur is trying so hard. but he cant escape the truth. he can never be wilbur soot. so he tries to make the few people alivebur loved happy, tries to stave off the black hole in his mind.title from monster by dodie
Series: dsmp drabbles n such [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116095
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	we shout in our heads (are you still in there?)

**Author's Note:**

> needed to get this out before insanebur my beloved returns and overthrows this fragile canon <3
> 
> lowercase intended

ghostbur didnt like not remembering. everything was… gooey. it was honey dripping down windowpanes and he couldnt wipe it off. his eyes were clouded and white, and he hated it. 

~~once he tried to claw them out, alone in his room when phil was gone. they dripped white, honey and syrup and sticky over his hands until he couldnt bear it.~~

no. no. he wouldnt think about that night, it made him sad and ghostbur was nothing if not happy!

he was nothing without his happiness. without the smile he was a shell, a husk of a hollowed-out man who died long before his father stabbed him. he hated the way tommy, his own brother, flinched from his gray hands and tried to hide it. the way he tensed when ghostbur opened an iron door with the button.

ghostbur tried to pretend that he didnt know what alivebur had done. he may have been an amnesiac spirit, but he wasnt an idiot. he had a book, and when he put together all the pieces, it was painfully obvious.

all he could do was try to share his false happiness with others. try to mend the bridges alivebur had burned. phil, techno, tommy, and fundy. they needed him. so ghostbur plastered on a smile and passed out blue and tried as hard as he could.

he hoped they didnt see the emptiness behind his white eyes. it would make them sad, and then he would get sad, and then he would forget again. he didnt want to forget.

the honey dripped from the spoon slow as molasses, trapping time like an insect in amber. ghostbur froze his memories like tree sap and prayed to whatever god might listen that he could someday thaw them again.


End file.
